


do i dare disturb the universe?

by pebbledashwall



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pebbledashwall/pseuds/pebbledashwall
Summary: See, things like this keep happening. There keep being Moments. And Tucker knows all it would take is one movement, one word, and it'd be over, it'd be out there. Just one second of bravery would end all this.But. Tucker's always been something of a coward. So he does nothing.





	do i dare disturb the universe?

**Author's Note:**

> lol i wrote this at 2 in the morning during stress-induced insomnia my life's going great
> 
> i've no idea what universe this is set in...i have some vague idea that it's in our modern world, and the reds and blues have returned from The War to live civilian lives and try and acclimatise to peace...but idk man
> 
> thnx v much to my sister for betaing even tho the last season she watched was 5
> 
> title is from T. S. Eliot's 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' bc i've got to use this literature degree for something, and also it kind of works??? with the theme of the fic??? idk, art or something
> 
> thnx for reading! this'll probs be a stand alone, but who knows, i might continue this universe someday, im unpredictable m8, im a fucking loose cannon

Wash might be the most fucked up person Tucker knows. And pretty much everybody Tucker knows is fucked up in some way or another, so that is saying something.    
  
Tucker might be falling in love with him.   
  
Wash frowns at him from where he's sitting at the other end of the couch, and Tucker jolts as he realises his concentration has drifted from the Star Trek film they're watching, and he's been staring at Wash for the last few minutes.    
  
"What's wrong?" Wash asks, "Do I have something on my face?" They've been sharing a bowl of Whoppers - Wash's choice. He scrubs at his clean chin with his left thumb, and spreads a smear of chocolate right across it.    
  
"Is that better?" he asks.    
  
Scratch that, Tucker's definitely falling in love with him.    
  
He could say something right now, he could just put it out there, rip off the bandaid he's been fiddling with for weeks.    
  
Instead, he chuckles lowly, "No, dude, come here." He leans over, and swipes at the chocolate with his own thumb. He wipes it on his t-shirt - it needed a wash anyway - and chuckles again when Wash wrinkles his nose slightly.    
  
There's silence then, as Tucker registers how close they are to each other, and there's a heavy pause as they both look at each other, somehow unable to move closer, or apart. Tucker can feel Wash's breath on his skin: it sends a scatter of goosebumps across his neck and down his arms.    
  
The moment passes. Tucker moves back, returning to his previous position, sprawled over the arm of the couch, legs next to Wash's. He clears his throat and turns back to the movie. After a couple of beats, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wash do the same.   
  
See, things like this keep happening. There keep being Moments. And Tucker knows all it would take is one movement, one word, and it'd be over, it'd be out there. Just one second of bravery would end all this.   
  
But. Tucker's always been something of a coward. So he does nothing.   
  
It's not that he's scared Wash won't reciprocate - no, he's pretty sure he's fine on that front, he's caught Wash staring at his ass too many times for it to be an accident. He's just scared of the change, of the unknown. He likes their friendship just how it is right now, Wash crashing at his three nights a week, him and Junior turning up to make sure Wash eats on the other four; going to the cinema with Caboose and Church and Carolina, and the Reds as well most of the time; bringing Wash lunch when he has a double shift at the adoption centre; Wash picking Junior up from school when Tucker's got an early shift at Church's bar. It's nice, it's comfortable, it's normal.   
  
So he does nothing.   
  
And okay, maybe a little bit of Tucker is scared of how fucked up Wash is. Not because he can't handle it - he's already helped Wash through some of his Bad Days, and he's pretty sure they've seen enough together that he could deal with pretty much any of Agent Washington's Assorted Nightmares - but because he's terrified he'll make it worse. He knows Wash has major abandonment issues, and though he and the others have mainly managed to convince him that they're not going anywhere anytime soon, Tucker knows he's not got a great affinity for long-term relationships, and the idea that he could be the one to hurt Wash even more is just. Unbearable.   
  
So he does nothing.   
  
At the other end of the couch, Wash's head has dipped down onto his chest, and he's snoring softly. Tucker gets up, turns off the TV, and rearranges Wash so he's actually lying down properly, with his head propped up on one of the decorative cushions Donut had given Tucker when he and Junior moved in. The blanket they keep in the living room (which Tucker has come to think of as Wash's blanket) is missing, so Tucker has to hunt for it. He finds it in Junior's old toy chest, which Tucker has been forbidden from even moving from its place near the window since Junior saw Toy Story 3. He drapes it over Wash, who has shifted into his usual sleeping position, curled up like one of his cats, or at least, as curled up as he can be on the tiny couch.   
  
Wash has had fewer and fewer nightmares recently: Tucker doesn't know if this is good, i.e. Wash is in a healthier place, head wise, or if it's bad, like the calm before a storm, and there's going to be a really bad one soon. He hopes it's the former. Wash doesn't tend to have them at Tucker's place anyway, which is, like, a third of why Tucker insists Wash stays over all the time.    
  
Nevertheless, Tucker's always hesitant to leave Wash here, just in case, so after a moment of hovering, he goes to get his comforter from his room, and gets as comfortable as he can on the armchair next to Wash. It'll do his back in, and Wash will send him guilty looks all tomorrow morning, but it's better than worrying all night in the other room and getting no sleep at all.   
  
The moon's really bright tonight, and it shines through the gap between the curtains onto Wash’s head. Tucker’s never been a poetic person, but he thinks he could write sonnets about how Wash’s hair looks silvery in the moonlight, and how much younger and more at peace he seems when he's asleep. If any of the others could hear that, they'd mock him ceaselessly for it, except maybe Donut, who'd want to start a fucking poetry corner or something.    
  
As it is, no one else can hear it, just as no one else can see the big doofy smile Tucker has on his face as he watches Wash’s chest slowly rising and falling with the deep, calm breathing of sleep. Looking at him now, you’d never guess all the shit he’s been through, he just looks like any other guy in his late 30s going grey prematurely. That’s always been what’s struck Tucker the most, since the first time he saw Wash without his helmet on: how ordinary he looked, and it always makes something twist painfully in Tucker’s chest.   
  
Often, Tucker wishes he could travel in time, and just do something, anything, to make younger Wash never join the military, never get scooped into Project Freelancer, never get fucked over by the Director’s experiments. It’s not possible, Tucker knows, and it’s not likely to be possible any time soon - and even if it was, Tucker’s seen Back to the Future, he knows it’d create a paradox, because he’d never get to meet Wash in the first place.    
  
He can’t help thinking it’d still be worth it, somehow.


End file.
